THE MOUSE AND THE CAKE.

ELIZA COOK.

A mouse found a beautiful piece of plum-cake, The richest and sweetest that mortal could make; 'Twas heavy with citron and fragrant with spice, And covered with sugar all sparkling as ice.

"My stars!" cried the mouse, while his eye beamed with glee,

"Here's a treasure I've found; what a feast it will be:

But, hark! there's a noise, 'tis my brothers at play; So I'll hide with the cake, lest they wander this

way.

"Not a bit shall they have, for I know I can eat Every morsel myself, and I'll have such a treat;" So off went the mouse, as he held the cake fast; While his hungry young brothers went scampering past.

He nibbled, and nibbled, and panted, but still
He kept gulping it down till he made himself ill;
Yet he swallowed it all, and 'tis easy to guess,
He was soon so unwell that he groaned with dis-
tress.

His family heard him, and as he grew worse, They sent for the doctor, who made him rehearse How he'd eaten the cake to the very last crumb; Without giving his playmates and relatives some.

"Ah me!" cried the doctor, "advice is too late, You must die before long, so prepare for your fate;

If you had but divided the cake with your brothers,

"Twould have done you no harm, and been good for the others.

"Had you shared it, the treat had been wholesome enough;

But eaten by one, it was dangerous stuff;

So prepare for the worst;" and the word had scarce fled,

When the doctor turned round, and the patient was dead.

Now all little people the lesson may take,

And some large ones may learn from the mouse and the cake:

Not to be over-selfish with what we may gain;

Or the best of our pleasures may turn into pain.

THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER.

JAMES T. FIELDS.

We were crowded in the cabin,
Not a soul would dare to sleep-
It was midnight on the waters
And a storm was on the deep.

'Tis a fearful thing in winter
To be shattered by the blast,
And to hear the rattling trumpet
Thunder "Cut away the mast!"

So we shuddered there in silenceFor the stoutest held his breath, While the hungry sea was roaring, And the breakers talked with death.

As there we sat in darkness,

Each one busy with his prayers,
"We are lost!" the captain shouted,
As he staggered down the stairs.

But his little daughter whispered,
As she took his icy hand:
"Isn't God upon the ocean,
Just the same as on the land?"

Then we kissed the little maiden,
And we spoke in better cheer,
And we anchored safe in harbor
When the morn was shining clear.

THE PILOT.

THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY.

O, pilot! 'tis a fearful night, there's danger on the deep;

I'll come and pace the deck with thee,-I do not dare to sleep.

Go down! the sailor cried, go down; this is no place for thee:

Fear not; but trust in Providence, wherever thou mayst be.

Ah! pilot, dangers often met we all are apt to slight,

And thou hast known these raging waves but to subdue their might.

It is not apathy, he cried, that gives this strength to me:

Fear not; but trust in Providence, wherever thou mayst be.

On such a night the sea engulfed my father's lifeless form;

My only brother's boat went down in just so wild a storm!

And such, perhaps, may be my fate; but still I say to thee,

Fear not; but trust in Providence, wherever thou mayst be.

THE VOYAGE WITH THE NAUTILUS.

MARY HOWITT.

I made myself a little boat,

As trim as trim could be;

I made it of a great pearl shell
Found in the Indian Sea.

I made my masts of wild sea-rush

grew on a secret shore,

That grew

And the scarlet plume of the halcyon

Was the pleasant flag I bore.

For my sails I took the butterfly's wings;
For my ropes the spider's line;

And that mariner old, the Nautilus,
To steer me over the brine.